


The Road Not Taken

by lovelyavengers (fandomsandxfiles)



Series: Jack Thompson Things [26]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Exes to Lovers, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Partially inspired by "tis the damn season" by taylor swift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsandxfiles/pseuds/lovelyavengers
Summary: You were done with him this time, and you meant it. So why do you keep volunteering to help out the SSR in difficult cases, when it was almost certainly a recipe for disaster?
Relationships: Jack Thompson (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Jack Thompson Things [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120916
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

You were nursing your drink in the crowded bar when you heard your name, and you didn't have to even look to see who it was. "Why are you here?" you asked gruffly, downing what was left in your glass. 

"I was told that an FBI agent was coming in tomorrow to help us with the Underwood case," Jack Thompson said knowingly. "I knew it was going to be you. For someone who left her job at the SSR to move down to DC, you find a lot of excuses to come back and visit." 

You turned to face him. "So how did you know I was here? I could have been anywhere."

"I knew that this was your favorite spot to drink after big cases when you still worked in New York," he said. "And that you don't like to sit around and do nothing in your hotel rooms, so I put two and two together. I wasn't wrong, wasn't I?" 

"No," you said tersely. "But that still doesn't explain what you want from me." 

"I want to spend time with you," he said. 

"I'm not someone who will come at your beck and call Thompson," you said, starting to get up from your seat. "There's a reason that our relationship ended, if you remember." 

"Please, I just want to talk," he said, reaching out to lightly grasp your arm. 

You tossed some money to the bartender to cover your drinks and wrenched your arm out of his grasp. "No, I'm done talking to you. The same thing happens every time, I think you've changed and then I find out you actually haven't. I can't go through that again."

"Then why are you here? Why are you back in New York?" 

"I am here for my job, thank you very much," you said angrily. "My life has never and will never revolve around you Jack Thompson, and believe it or not, there are more important things for me to deal with right now than my love life."

You walked out of the bar and into the chilly night air, but the door never slammed behind you. "Wait!" Jack kept saying, chasing after you. "Y/N!" 

When he finally caught up to you, you could tell he was almost at his wit's end. The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up again the wall of the bar, and he was in your face. "Let me go!" you breathed angrily. 

"No. Not until you talk to me." 

"You can't make me." 

That was a challenge that he wasn't going to back down from, because seconds later his lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. You kissed back immediately, it was an automatic reaction. You had forgotten what it was like to kiss him, and you couldn't control the moan that passed through your lips when you broke apart. "Please," he whispered, still holding you tight. 

You grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and kissed him again. What was the harm in having a little fun before work tomorrow? 

***

You woke up in his bed the next morning. The sun wasn't up yet, but you could just make out the shapes of your clothes, which had been thrown every which way last night as the two of you kissed hungrily. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Jack's soft snores from next to you, and right there you started to freak out a little. You had come to New York telling yourself that you wouldn't go back to your ex, but here you were, naked in his bed before you even set foot in the SSR again. After making sure Jack was still asleep, you crawled out of the bed and tiptoed around the room to collect your clothes. Minutes later, you were leaving his apartment, still under a cover of darkness. 

When you finally made it back to the hotel you were supposed to be staying at, you collapsed on the bed. The clock read half past seven in the morning, so you barely had enough time to overthink your questionable decisions before you had to get ready to go into the SSR and help them with the Dottie Underwood case. The worst part was that you didn't know what Jack expected of you, if you were being completely honest. He was going to be mad that you snuck out before sunrise, but what else were you supposed to do? 

You wiped the remnants of last night's makeup off as best you could, and tried to tame your hair a little bit. When you were finally satisfied with how you looked (and you had washed away some of the alcohol that still lingered on your breath), you left for the office, and every footstep you took added to the nervous beating of your heart. 

Every time you came to New York, this happened. You always said you wanted nothing to do with him, but by the end of your trip you'd gone home with him at least once. And every time you'd ask yourself why your relationship didn't work out, until he did something to let you know the answer to that question real quick. And every single time, it broke your heart. He was an asshole, but there was a significant part of your heart that still belonged to him, no matter what you did to try and change that. He was your weakness, and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You weren't looking forward to stepping back into the SSR, especially because you've already done the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn't do when you agreed to this case. But it wasn't time to lament your bad choices, you told yourself as you approached the New York Bell Company building. Now, it was time to work. 

The other agents watched you as you walked purposefully through the halls, and everyone in the bullpen looked up when you walked through the door. You weren't quite sure what to do, so you paid them no attention as you headed to the chief's office (even though that's the last place you wanted to be right now), heels clicking powerfully on the floor. You didn't even bother to knock, and soon the door closed behind you, but in front of you was a situation you would categorize as a nightmare. 

You and Jack stared at each other in silence for a few moments, before he got up from his desk and left the room. You tentatively followed him. "Alright listen up boys, this is Agent Y/N L/N of the FBI. She's here to help us on the Underwood case." 

You waved and offered a small smile. "You can just call me Y/N." 

"You can have that desk for as long as you're here," Jack said evenly, like he was trying very hard not be spiteful. He turned around and disappeared into his office, the door slamming quietly behind him. The desk in question was smaller than all the others, and it had been shoved into the corner of the room haphazardly. You wondered if Jack had arrived early to work just to push your desk in the worst spot possible.

You moved the tiny desk away from the wall a little more so you could actually sit down, and you heard the other agents chattering to themselves, all wondering what the hell had just happened with the chief, because he wasn't always like that. 

You knew exactly why he was angry, but it still didn't change how you felt. You didn't come back here to get back together with him, and you weren't going to put yourself through any more pain on his account. Last night was a lapse in judgement, nothing more. 

You sat in silence for the rest of the day, hoping this case would wrap up quickly so you could leave New York, forever this time. 


	2. Chapter 2

Despite wanting nothing more than to leave, you had gotten so wrapped up in the surveillance reports you were reviewing to notice that the day had practically ended. When you finally realized that it was time to leave, the bullpen was empty, but the light in the chief's office was still on. You quickly gathered your things, leaving the files where they were. And for about a minute and a half, it looked like you were going to make it. Then you heard your name, and you knew there was no escaping what was about to happen. "What?" you asked shortly, still not turning to look at him. 

"We need to talk about last night." 

"I don't _need_ to do anything," you said. "It was a lapse in judgement on my part, and the sooner you get that through your head, the easier it'll be. I can't let myself get hurt again." 

"Can we still talk?" he was practically pleading at this point, and you finally turned around to look at him. His expression was softer, with none of the toughness that he had exhibited earlier that day. 

Wordlessly, you shook your head. You knew exactly what would happen if you agreed to talk to him, the same thing that happened last night and every other night you saw him when you came up to New York. 

Surprisingly, he let you leave, and you weren't going to question it. But that didn't mean that you could stop thinking about him. 

_Maybe this time it would work_ , one half of your brain argued. 

_He hasn't changed a bit_ , the other half shot back. 

You tossed and turned the whole night, trying to stop thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours, and his hands on your waist. 

You hated every second of it. 

***

"No, we're not accepting your transfer request," Peggy's voice was firm over the phone, and even though Jack expected that as an answer, his heart still sunk. 

"Why not?" 

"You know exactly why not Jack," Peggy said. "I told you the same thing last time this happened, that you needed to stand and face your mistakes."

"But she won't listen to me, how am I supposed to face my mistakes if she won't give me a chance?" 

Peggy let out a heaving sigh. "You broke her heart," she said. "She's just trying to protect herself." There was a silence on the other end, because Jack didn't know what to say. "Jack, why do you care so much? If she's going back to DC like you said, it'll all be back to normal." 

"What do you mean?" 

"The situation isn't ideal, but it's not like Y/N is transferring to the New York office for good. If you just act cordial around each other and stay out of each others' way, it won't be that bad. It's not like you've seen her outside of the office."

More silence on Jack's end. "About that..." he said, and Peggy could barely hear him. 

"Jack Thompson, you never fail to disappoint me," Peggy said. "You're not helping your situation you know." 

"I know," he said sadly. "But-" 

"Spare me the details please," was Peggy's response. "But you never answered my question, why do you care so much?" 

"I don't know," he said, but that was a bold-faced lie. He knew exactly why he cared so much about what you thought of him, because he was in love with you. It was all he could think about as he watched you work through the slats of the blinds in his office today, and it was all he could think about now. 

"I wasn't born yesterday Jack," Peggy said, and he could practically hear her eyes roll over the phone. "If you really care about Y/N and you truly want to make things right between you, you have to show her that. You've caused her a lot of pain, so don't be shocked that she's putting up walls to guard her heart. She may not let you back in so soon."

"Would you forgive me? If you were her?" Jack asked her out of nowhere. 

If the question caught Peggy off guard, she didn't show it. "No I wouldn't," she said, not missing a beat. "So let's hope that Y/N is a better person than I am, for your sake." 

Jack's could practically feel his heart sink to floor at Peggy's statement. Winning you back definitely wasn't going to be easy, but he was willing to do whatever it took. 

***

The next few days were agonizing, and you still ignored everything Jack said to you unless it was about the case. If the other agents noticed the awkward tension in the room between the two of you and the glares that you sometimes shot the door of his office during the day, they didn't say anything to you. 

But despite the fact that you'd rather be anywhere else in the world than working on this case, you were still one of the last people to leave every day. You knew that this case was important, and you also knew that the quicker this case was sewn up, the quicker you could go back to DC. You had mentioned to one of your friends at the FBI that you felt like your life was getting boring a little while ago, but right now you would give anything to go back to that kind of monotony. 

You often didn't realize when the day was over simply because you were too wrapped up in whatever you were doing. You quickly slipped out of the empty office when you heard Jack start to pack his things in his office, hoping that he didn't try and chase after you. And on most days, you didn't interact with him. Today as it happened, you weren't so lucky. 

You looked up at the clock to realize that it was already an hour past when you were supposed to leave for the night, and the only other person left in the office was Jack, who was working the night shift that night. The scientists were still working in the lab down the hall, but they had their own schedules, and most of them liked working at night anyway. Jack always worked the night shift alone, even when you still worked for the SSR, and you always wondered why. But it looked like tonight he wouldn't be by himself, because right when you finished packing up to leave, one of the scientists opened the door to the bullpen wearing full protective gear. 

You opened your mouth to ask him what was going on, but he cut you off before you could get any words out. "There's been a spill in the lab, and the building is going into full lockdown. No one is allowed in or out. I'm going to lock the bullpen door." 

The noise brought Jack out of his office. "What's going on?" 

"The building is going into full lockdown, no one is allowed in or out." Then the door to the bullpen was shut and locked. And your worst nightmare began. 


	3. Chapter 3

You didn't know what to do, because this is a situation that you definitely never prepared yourself for. Granted, it could be a lot worse, because at least you could take refuge in the small conference room that was separate from the bullpen, and Jack could go into his office. But it looked like the two of you would be trapped in the office for the rest of the night. So you did the only thing that you could think to do: you walked back over to your desk and started to leaf through the paperwork you had left for tomorrow. If you were going to be stuck here, you might as well get some more work done. 

Jack didn't move, and you didn't acknowledge him. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife for a few moments, with both of you hyper-aware of the other but refusing to do anything. Finally, he broke the silence. "Since we're stuck in here together for the foreseeable future, will you at least talk to me now?"

You looked up at him, saying nothing for a few moments. "What is there to possibly say? What could you possibly say to me that I haven't heard before?" 

"I could say that I'm sorry," he said, and it caught you off guard. "I'm sorry for everything I've done to you, Y/N, and I just want to fix that. Whatever happens between us, I just want to mend things." 

"Alright," you breathed. "Let's talk. But nowhere formal, I don't want to hash this out at the conference table or anything." 

Jack nodded and disappeared into his office, returning in a few moments later with a picnic blanket, which he spread out on the floor in between the desks. He sat down and gestured to the empty spot on the blanket. You were grateful that you had chosen to wear pants today as you lowered yourself to sit on the blanket. You tried to think of what to say, but Jack broke the silence. "I've already been told that you shouldn't forgive me, so I'm not expecting anything, but I want to make things right." 

You offered a small smile. It was probably Peggy that had told him that you shouldn't forgive him, and she definitely had a point. But if you were going to be trapped in the office with him for the the night, the least you could do is hear what he had to say. "Alright," you said. "I'm listening." 

That was the first time the two of you had really spoken since the first time you broke up, and you had forgotten what it was like to sit down and have a conversation with him. He wasn't the only one at fault for the situation that you were in, you had just as much blood on your hands as he did. He may have been the one to end the relationship the first time, but the fact that you kept coming back to New York and entangling yourself in his life was on you. Part of you never wanted to let him go, you just didn't want to feel attached to him. You still loved him, even if you didn't want to admit, so instead of addressing that, you decided that you could just occasionally show back up in New York, spend a few nights with him, and then head home again like nothing ever happened. But you left his heart in your wake every time you left before the sun came up. 

He had gotten used to surviving on the little crumbs of you he got: your smile, your touch, your kiss, but they were gone faster than he could blink. You always left without notice, and he just sat there and let it happen. This time, he thought maybe it would be different. You were in the city to help the SSR, so maybe he could convince you to stay. But when he woke up to an empty bed and a scribbled note on the pillow about mistakes, he chided himself for being so foolish. It was his fault every time for searching you out, for initiating the intimacy, because you were obviously never going to change. 

But you were each other's downfalls, and you couldn't stop going back to one another, even though you both knew that it would hurt the next day. 

The two of you fell asleep that night sprawled out on chairs and tables, but there was a definite ease in the air between you. Things were going to get better, because both of you were starting to heal from the other. 

*** 

The rest of the case went by, and things were running smoothly between you and Jack. A lot had come to light that night you were trapped in the bullpen together, and you had agreed that it would better for the two of you if you never saw each other again. But as more time passed, you realized that you didn't want to do that. You found yourself falling more in love with him, but in a different way this time. You fell in love with the little smile he gave you when you knocked on his office door, you fell in love with the jokes he made when he was teasing the other agents in the office, and you fell in love with the way that you could tell if he woke up late that morning or not, based on how tame his hair was. And you didn't want to give that up. 

What felt like seconds later, it was time for you to go back to DC, back to your job at the FBI. So the day before you left, you did something crazy: you left him a note. You folded it up and left it on his desk, slightly out of the way, right before you left for the day. Jack was working the night shift that night, so you had high hopes that he would see it. 

So you waited and you waited in your hotel room, hoping with all that you had that there would be a knock at the door, and he would be on the other side. But no one ever came. 

So you boarded the train back to DC, fighting the urge to cry. Because you had left your heart with him in New York City, whether he wanted it or not. 

***

Jack didn't notice the folded piece of paper until it was too late. It was scribbled with his name on it and tucked almost out of sight. He gently opened it up and read it, and his heart fell when he realized what it was. 

_Jack,_

_I know we agreed that it was best for the two of us that our paths don't cross again, but I just can't do that. I still love you, and I always have, but I just wanted to protect myself. Showing up to New York for the weekend every few months was the easy way out, because I wanted to see you but I didn't want to change anything else about how I lived. But compromise is necessary for love, and that's something we got wrong the first time around._

_I understand if you never want to see me again, but I needed to tell you. My train leaves at 2 o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and I have nothing to do before then. The ball is in your court Jack, it's up to you if you want to take a chance on me again or not. If I don't hear from you, I'll get on my train and leave you alone, I won't come back to New York. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you, but I'd never blame you for wanting me out of your life forever._

_Maybe this is farewell._

_Love,_

_Y/N_

His heart twisted as he read those words. You had handed him your heart, and he didn't even see the note until it was too late. You were back in DC by now, and you probably thought that he he didn't care about you. 

He stared at the wall for a few moments, and then he knew what he had to do. It was the middle of the workday when he left the office, a map in his passenger seat and the route to Washington DC outlined in bright red, but he didn't care. This was much more important. 

Thankfully he had your address from the SSR, because by the time he made it down to DC it was too late for you to still be at work. He climbed the steps to your apartment and knocked gently on the door, desperately hoping you would answer. And in a stroke of luck, you did. 

"Jack?" you asked as you opened the door, eyes wide as he stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. "What-"

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he said, cutting you off. "But I love you too, and I hope you can forgive me for taking so long."

You didn't know what else to say, so you grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him down to kiss you. Hard. You put every bit of emotion you had into that kiss, and he kissed back just as fiercely. When you broke for air, he pulled you close. "I guess you accept my apology then," he said, a playful smile on his face. 

"Oh just shut up and kiss me."

"Gladly. I'm never leaving your side again." 

_\- the end -_


End file.
